and after the realisation that it’s not so bad,
you can bear it,
move on to the dew wet morning grass,
to the uncut patch,
where the secret life within grounds you
to the heart of your heart,
to the world heart,
to the one sacred whole where you know yourself in everything,
where everything has it’s peace,
and even inanimate objects
find their rest in the sacred.

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About maskednative

I live in Ireland, in an extended cottage overlooking Waterford Estuary, privvy to constant changes of light on water, colour and movement, tides and people. I am anglo-Irish and although my initial intention was to live here for a year and a day, I am still here, a blow-in to these shores for the past fifteen years. There have been countless times when I wanted to run back to England with homesickness and relief, but for one reason or another, so far, it has not been possible. I surrender, the soul of Ireland has captured me, allowed a glimpse of the world behind the mask of everyday experiences, bringing forth a mixture of words and pictures from an ordinary everyday life, filled with ordinary everydayness that I offer as a celebration, to the creator of this truly wonderful planet.

Reblogged this on Teacher as Transformer and commented:
This beautiful poem reminded me of the Alfred North Whitehead that the past and future always meet in the sacred, holy ground of the present. We cannot be any other place except in our thoughts which create a fantastic future and idealized past.

Ah, yes–the grace and mystery of “the uncut patch.” Thank you for this lovely and grounding poem, Teri. “Step….:” I love how you direct us immediately to our feet and our senses, wisely reminding us that they are rivers to our hearts, to the one heart. My dancing feet are dancing with joy upon reading this :). Thank you for your gift. xo